Story | THE DARK WARLOCK – chapter 6

Here comes the fresh Chapter 6 of the story [THE DARK WARLOCK] from Darth2018. Let’s see together what happen

Silence settled over the ravine as all the fighters stared amazed at the beast they had just slain. Ralnar turned to Linmaer.

“See to our wounded, then bring up horses. We’ll drag it back to the Angtur and examine it there.”

“Hold, noble elf lord!” A strong voice interrupted. Rohillion looked back.

A massive dwarf warrior gazed at him, his huge fists resting on the pommel of his axe, the head on the ground. “This is a rich prize, taken by the blood and valor of your men and mine! Now you come and claim it without regard of your allies?”

Rohillion stood silent for a moment.

“Allies, dwarf? We tracked this monster for fifteen days across the Saumarra, driving it on until it chanced upon your men…and from what I saw, you were after Orcs, not beasts! You were as surprised as anyone when it emerged from its hide!” Ralnar stepped over to lay a gauntleted hand on the carcass. “We knew where it was going and we ran it down. It is ours.”

The dwarf stared back silently for a heartbeat, then he chuckled. “You chased it right into our arms! So very nice of you! We shall speak further about this later.” He turned and passed his axe to at a man-at-arms behind him, then reached up and removed his helmet as he stepped up to Rohillion and held out his hand.

“Bane Ironfist am I clept, war captain of the Red Shield clan. We have chased these cursed Orcs from Groudrim, to the north, because they defiled our land. They led us a merry chase for a week,” Ironfist turned and pointed at Rhinoch, “following him!”

Bane scratched hard at his scalp and nodded to the surviving Orcs crouched back to back in a small knot a few steps away, surrounded by both Rohillion’s men and a muttering troop of dwarves. The orcs shook their weapons, glaring at the dwarves. “Perhaps we should ask them why they came so far for one man,” the dwarf turned his gaze back to Rhinoch, “even if he is as big as three men!”

Rohillion nodded and led the way toward their bitterest foes. Harsh grunts grew and the Orcs drew closer together. Ralnar stopped and gazed at the enemy, bemused by the sight. Outnumbered at least thirty to one, still they stood defiant, ready to fight.

“Do any of you speak the Common Tongue, intruders into my lands?” Ralnar cried.

Cruel laughter rose and the hooked swords of the Orcs were raised over their heads as they hooted derisively.

“You waste your time, elf!” Rhinoch growled, having followed Bane and Rohillion. “These curs know little of the ways of the lowlands. They huddle in their tunnels, scheming and envying what they see outside their hovels!

A tall Orc growled. “You will not be so brave when we bring you back to Mugburz, slave!” The Orc stepped toward Rohillion. He turned his gaze to Ralnar. “You would be wise to surrender this criminal back into our custody and let us go, lord of grasses!” He thrust out his chest and banged his sword against his hauberk. “Know that I am Urag Maul, war chief, and I demand you withdraw your forces and leave us go unmolested…or pay the consequences of defying the Hewn Pillar clan!”

Maul circled slowly, pointing his sword at the troops surrounding him, laughing harshly. “Did you enjoy the sunrise, foolish men? Silly dwarves! You have ventured too far from your mountain gates!” Maul turned to gaze straight at Rohillion. “Elf! You don’t have to end your days here in this ragged valley! Just give us the giant and depart!

A tinkling laugh echoed across the ravine, light and unconcerned. Linmaer stood near, her bow hanging down as she stood relaxed.

“Is this a private fight, or can anyone play?”

Bane moved to intervene but Ralnar lifted his right hand and Bane stopped. Linmaer drifted forward, chuckling softly.

“My!” her head shaking, “You are a tall one, orc but just as ugly! Tell me, did you eat your brothers while marching here?”

Silence fell over the ravine, the grasses rasping beneath Urag’s boots as he turned toward the elf maid. He flexed his shoulders and Linmaer laughed again.

“Oooh! Such big shoulders for such a wretched thing as you, but the Rodain makes you look like a pup! You advise us? I advise you to keep a more civil tongue in your head…while you still have it!

Urag Maul was an experienced and proud warrior. He lunged toward Linmaer, his sword sweeping high but his stroke missed. Lightly, like a leaf, the maid leapt upward off Maul’s left thigh as the Orc staggered past, while plucking a long dirk from her belt and plunging it hilt deep close in on Maul’s neck. The slender girl twisted her right hand and landed on her feet as Maul stumbled, blood spurting off the bottom of his jaw. He reeled around to stare unbelievingly at Linmaer, the heavy orc blade dropping as Urag’s knees buckled. He was trying to speak when he collapsed on his face.

Linmaer leaned over, wiped her blade on Maul’s back, and sauntered over to Rohillion’s side, slipping the dirk back into her belt. No one said anything.

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